


Pale/Queer Platonic Davekat Drabbles

by blazingArtist (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/blazingArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of drabbles about Dave and Karkat's Moirallegiance (or qp relationship). Some are them just being loser knights, others might be full of feelings jams, and yet others will have them having platonic sex. I'm writing them out of order and will put them in chronological order as I write them and put them into this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt: Hand Holding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Managed to swap the order of the two chapters!
> 
> Anyway, this drabble is before Karkat and Dave are together at all. It's just a drabble I did using the prompt hand holding. It was fun writing and I think it's pretty cute. It's from Karkat's POV (eventually I'll write one from Dave's, probably)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

The only thing you could feel was the way your blood pusher was beating, way up in your throat. You swallowed thickly, eyes closed as if it would help to settle your nerves. It didn't.

Instead, it just intensified the feeling, made your palms sweat and your capacity to breathe die. Were you even still taking in air? You must've been, or else you wouldn't still be conscious.

It was a simple thing, you shouldn't have been freaking out so terribly. God, you were such a wriggler about everything all the time. How was it even possible for you to flip so many shits over something so _simple_ , so goddamn normal and stupid!

All that had changed was that Dave's hand was entwined with your own; what was the big deal? Except now you couldn't even manage basic thinkpan function, let _alone_ speaking and he hadn't even batted a goddamn eyelash over the whole ordeal. Nope. He was still talking about who even knows what, lips flapping a mile a minute as if nothing had changed.

As if he wasn't _holding your fucking hand_ like it didn't mean something. Wait, what did it mean? Was it just a friendly gesture? Moirallegiance? Or something romantic? Oh god, you had no idea.

Deep breath. In, out. Don't stop breathing, whatever you do.

You looked up at the tall human. Another deep breath. He wasn't even looking at you, still pretending that your palms weren't sweaty as fuck against his own and that you weren't silently freaking the hell out.

What a douchebag.

You took another breath. His hand was soft, though probably calloused by human standards, against your own. They're also cold against your heated skin. That's probably a species thing. You couldn't tell if he was nervous, too. You wished you could tell what was running through his thinkpan.

"So then Rose starts detailing her sex life with Kanaya to me, while I'm trying to sober her up. Like, whoa, sis, I know you're drunk and all, but could you _not_? Karkat, I will never, ever get the mental imagery of Rose face deep in alien junk out of my mind. Ever. I never needed that."

You obviously chose the wrong time to tune back into the idiocy he's spewing from his facegash. He's looking at you now though, an eyebrow raised and a pinkish flush to his grossly squishy human face that lets you know that yes, he is actively aware of your hand against his.

You set your facial features into that of a scowl, a challenge in your eyes, or so you hope. God, please don't let your face be that mutated red color. "Are you even remotely serious? We're holding HANDS, you stupendously ignorant fuck! And all you can think of to talk about is Rose and Kanaya _fucking_?"

Before you're even processing your actions, you've ripped your hand away from his. It's almost surprising just how wrong it feels, not having the human's hand against your own. How empty it makes you feel; the way your bloodpusher drops out of your throat and into your gut.

You can't stop the incessant words forcing their way out of your mouth. "I have been freaking out this _entire_ time, and you're just carrying on as if nothing even happened! Does it not mean anything to you humans, hand holding? Is this just some ridiculous game to you? You told me before that you can't _do_ quadrants, so what makes you think it's okay to-"

"Dude, calm it the fuck down. It's just a lil hand on hand action; the typical two man tango except with significantly less stumbling and stepping on feet. C'mon, princess, tone down the shit flippin' we've got all day to grill them patties."

He stops talking before he can start another ridiculous human metaphor. Probably because you're walking away from him, going back the way you came down one of the infinite meteor corridors. You don't care to stick around and deal with him poking fun at you. There aren't tears stinging at your eyes, that would be absolutely ridiculous. It doesn't hurt that badly that he thinks this is another stupid joke.

Now you're just flat out lying to yourself, but what does it matter anyway?

Suddenly he's grabbed you by the arm, and you're facing him once again. Before you can open your mouth to yell at him, tell him to fuck right the hell off and be a pretentious human literally anywhere else, you're silenced by the look in his eyes, by the feeling of one of his hands pressing your chin up to look at him directly. When did his shades come off? You've seen his eyes before; it comes as no surprise that they're the same as your blood. The surprise is in the intensity of them, the way you can tell that no matter what he says next he's definitely not kidding about it. Probably because he can see the hurt in you; he's not blind and you're shaking.

"Karkat. I don't know what's happening, okay? I'm sorry for being shitty, but I just dunno what to call this veritable shitstorm we're entrenched in. Either way, you can't deny some mad gay shit's happenin' here. Wait, trolls don't know what gay is. Nevermind. I'm way off the beaten track now. Okay, so I really don't know what we are or what I _want_ us to be, but I know I care about you and it's not just a normal human friendship kinda deal. So just, for once in your weird troll-y life, could you not try to shove your relationships into a tiny deck of cards themed box? Just let it goddamn happen, whatever it is. Let me talk to you about random shit like we always do with the simple addition of me holding your ridiculously warm hand."

You huffed gently, trying to seem annoyed whilst composing yourself. You weren't terribly pissed off anymore for some reason, even though you had every right to be. No, instead you let him retake your hand - and tried really hard not to flip fifty million shits again - and continue on with whatever new, hopefully non-sex related topic he decided to go with.

He was still a complete douchebag, though.


	2. First Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble. None of these chapters will really properly connect, but they're all pale/queer platonic Davekat. Anyway, Karkat and Dave are in a pale(?) relationship and make an attempt at having sex. Not much else to say about it. It's from Karkat's pov.

For as long as you could remember, romance was always something that had made complete sense to you. Everything was supposed to fit into neat little quadrants. Love, hate, pale, ashen. It was easy to you; it all made sense. You remember having conversations with Nepeta over each of the quadrants, a few possibilities of relationships between your friends before the game had begun, back when everything was simple.

Now nothing made sense anymore and it was all because of the smarmy fucking douchebag straddling your thighs, red eyes trained on you and clouded over with a lust you couldn't even begin to fathom. You were supposed to be _pale_ for fuck's sakes.

He never called it that, though, nor did he give more of an explanation on the human quadrant of 'queer platonic' besides that it seemed pretty close to moirallegiance (which he refused to pronounce properly to this day). Except it wasn't quite that. There was more to it than just wanting to be close with this culturally insensitive human, more to it than just wanting to take care of each other.

You didn't know what you wanted with him, couldn't figure out how it all was supposed to work. It wasn't "more than friendship" or "less than love" (which were ridiculous ways of putting anything anyway, and completely inaccurate) it was... love in a different manner? Trolls confused you enough, but this human was something else.

It made you feel selfish before, wanting him in a sexual manner despite feeling pretty damn close to pale in that way that you couldn't truly put a name to. Wasn't that how you had scared off Terezi? Wanting her in more than one manner and being too selfish for your own good? Except...

Dave Strider did not disappoint. In fact, he was the one who had asked you if you'd be comfortable with having sex. Immediately after asking he had tried to play it off like it was nothing in that dumb way of his because he probably figured you'd ask what the fuck was wrong with him and shoot him down. 

You didn't.

And now here you were, awkwardly trying to figure out how this was supposed to work. You had no idea where to put your hands, and all either of you seemed to understand with this was how to hold each other close and kiss.

Not that you minded at all, between his awkward laughter and having your hands in his hair and pulling him down against you for messy uncoordinated make outs, as well as the pleasant face kisses that you were accustomed to, this was pretty fucking awesome in your opinion. You were trying not to say anything really stupid at this point because you knew you would just end up ruining it with all the idiotic shit going through your thinkpan.

Sadly, he did not have the same courtesy as you. Granted, you knew that you both had this nasty habit of ruining moments with what you could say, but he was being absolutely ridiculous now and he _knew_ it.

"So like, before we truly start, uh, really gettin' into this shit, we should probably go over some stuff. Like, I should know what kind of weird troll dick you're packing before we lose the pants." His hands grazed past your grub scars as he spoke, causing your breath to hitch. Shit, that felt nice.

Not nice enough for him to get away with being a giant douchebag, though. "Oh my GOD, Dave, you culturally insensitive nookwiff. Here's an idea. Shut up, ditch your pants, and we'll figure it the fuck out from there."

"No, but like, dude, I have to know if your dick is going to grab me back before we completely undress, because that'd be an extremely unnatural surprise and I need to be fully prepared for your alien junk before we hit lift off."

In about five seconds, you were shoving the blonde human off you and got out of his weird bed or whatever it was. Sure, you loved him in your own way and were used to his stupidity, but you were not putting up with this ridiculous shit for your first sexual experience.

Okay and maybe you were more than a little offended that he thought the idea of a moving bulge was gross. "Fuck, just forget it, Dave," you muttered as you pulled your shirt back on, not even looking at the other male.

"Wait, Karkat, what?" You could hear him get up, and knew just how worried he looked without even turning around to face him. "C'mon, you know I didn't mean anything by that, I'm just trying to lighten the mood and-"

Not now. You couldn't do this with him now; he had killed the mood and you were nervous even before his commentary. "Don't. You're being a culturally insensitive nooksniffer as per fucking usual, and I'm not in the mood right now. Way to ruin the goddamn moment. Attempt over; you fucked it up, Dave."

Arms wound around you and you were pulled close to the tall human. Despite being annoyed, you allowed the movement by your pale love. "Sorry, Kitkat. How 'bout we watch one of your ridiculous movies and I'll try really hard not to make comments on how awful they are?"

You leaned back into him, trying to force down a smile that threatened to spread across your features. He was such a fucking idiot, and such an asshole, but he was your idiotic asshole. "You're already failing miserably, but fine. You have to get the popcorn and I expect a decent blanket fort this time around."

"Yes, sir, Mister Vantas. Your wish is my lowly human command."


End file.
